


Breaking My Back Just to Know Your Name

by Jennsepticeye



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Buried Alive, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Head Injury, Helmet removal, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Near Death Experiences, Shotgun Wedding, as in he's okay with it but he's hella concussed, but its more like "let me save your life wedding", dub con wedding, keldabe kisses, where do I even start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: “Would you believe that the woman at the shop called you polite, Vizla?” He says.Paz relaxes and Din can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m more polite than you, Djarin.”
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin/Paz Vizla, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Comments: 49
Kudos: 674





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I really don't understand why these two are a rare pair but whatever.
> 
> I mean, they pointed knives at one another's throats. That's basically a marriage proposal in my book
> 
> translations for the Mando'a are at the bottom

Din only takes the job because he has to. He’s been trying not to stay in one place for more than a few days, but he’s out of credits and they’re low on food and fuel. Plus, he’s pretty sure the kid is getting sick of ration bars. So he reaches out to Karga and gets a job worth enough credits to fill the tank and their bellies. There’s a couple of high profile bail jumpers on a backwater planet a few systems over. It seems like a pretty simple job so Din sets a course for Chen’xi-9 and puts his kid down for a nap.

He really should get to work right away, before his marks catch wind of his intentions and flee, but he really needs to get some stuff for his kid and Chen’xi-9 has a huge market. It’s not really famous outside the system but he can find basically everything he needs. As an added bonus, the kid gets to get out of the stuffy ship and see some nature.

The little one quickly grows tired of walking on his own and is now sitting on Din shoulder. He prefers it this way, the market is too busy for his taste and it's easier to keep track of the kid. The whispers follow him from stall to stall like always. Mandalorians are exceedingly rare in these parts and people are infatuated. Din spots some colorful fruit and steps into the stall. A woman’s voice calls out when he enters but he can’t see her.

“Welcome! Let me know if I can help ya find any- oh!” she cuts herself off in surprise. “Oh! Wow! Two Mandalorians in my shop in one day! What good fortune!”

Din frowns behind his visor. “Two? There was another here?”

She smiles and nods. “Aye! Just this mornin’. He was a very nice gentleman. Very polite.”

“Would you be able to tell me where he’s staying?” Sure, he could be from another covert, but if anyone survived from Navarro he wants to know. He just won't get his hopes up too much.

“I think he’s stayin’ at the inn on the corner. Real big fella, all in blue. Ya can’t miss ‘im.”

Din finishes his purchase and thanks the woman. He can’t get his hopes up. He can’t, but it’s impossible not to dream that the mystery Mandalorian is…

The whispers increase tenfold when Din and the child enter the bar beneath the inn. The lady selling fruit was right, he’s impossible to miss. Even tucked in the back corner he sticks out like a sore thumb. Paz Vizla. 

He stands when Din enters, body language speaking of uncertainty. Din adjusts the bundle in his arms and marches towards him. Paz stays rooted to the spot as Din stops in front of him. Paz is considerably taller than him so Din has to look up at.

“Would you believe that the woman at the shop called you polite, Vizla?” He says.

Paz relaxes and Din can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m more polite than you, Djarin.”

Din smiles, reaching out and pulling Paz down, because as much as they bicker and fight Din really missed him. Their helmets click against one another and he can hear Paz sigh.

“I’m glad you made it out. I went to the covert. I saw what happened. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. We knew what would happen if we revealed ourselves. As long as the foundling was saved.”

As if sensing that he was being talked about, the kid let out a particularly loud squeal. Paz jumps, like he didn’t quite notice the little one in Din’s arms. He’s got his big brown eyes trained on Paz’s visor like he can see right through it. Paz crouches down so he’s level with the kid and DIn thinks that’s just about the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“So you’re the  _ ad’ika  _ that caused so much trouble.”

The kid reaches out and puts his tiny little hands on Paz’s visor, smiling and cooing excitedly.

“I think he likes you  _ cyar’ika. _ ”

Paz laughs, soft and low, and crackling just a little bit through his vocoder. It makes Din feel warm, seeing his  _ cyare _ interact with his  _ ad’ika.  _ Not for the first time, he finds himself wondering where he’d be without the two of them. 

“You got a bounty in town?” Paz asks

“Yeah, a couple of bail jumpers. You want to lend a hand?”

“You don’t need me there.”

“No, but I always want you by my side, whether I need you or not.” Din says, sidestepping Paz and sitting down at the table. After a few seconds Paz joins him, sitting comfortingly close. He takes off his glove and cradles Din’s face underneath the helmet. Paz’s hand is warm and Din can’t help but lean into it.

“You need a shave, Djarin. You’re getting scruffy.” He comments, knocking their helmets together once again.

“Hm, well the  _ ad’ika  _ doesn’t allow me much time to myself these days, I’m afraid.” He lets his eyes fall shut, basking in Paz’s attention. He only ever feels this relaxed around his  _ cyare.  _

“So tell me more about this job of yours. Couple of bail jumpers?”

Din leans away to dig the pucks out of his pocket. “Yeah, ex-empire. Not too impressive for their price but the New Republic really wants them.” He shrugs.

“The New Republic hires hunters now?” Paz asks, surprised.

“Apparently. I’m not worried though. I’ve had worse jobs. That mean you’re in?”

Paz shrugs. “Someone has to make sure you don’t get your ass kicked too badly.”

Din laughs. “Because that’s your job, right?”

“You catch on quick,  _ cyar’ika. _ ”

~*~

By all means, it should be an easy job. The marks, all three of them, are hiding out in a cave outside of town with one exit. It’s almost laughable how easy they are to corner. Except, well, no one told Din about the fourth. The imps probably hired him recently but it would have been nice to know. He doesn’t even realize what’s happening until the cave begins to crumble and Paz yells. Everything goes black.

~*~

The moment Paz feels the cave start to shake he yells out for Din, but it’s too late. He watches in horror as the cave comes down on top of his  _ cyare.  _ In a panic he dispatches the marks. They’re worth more alive but they aren’t what Paz is worried about right now. The ceiling of the cave wasn’t particularly thick but it was still heavy. He climbs the rubble, heaving desperately at the stones.

“Din?  _ Cyar’ika?  _ Can you hear me?”

There’s no response. Oh stars.

_ There.  _ The sun glints off of dusty beskar and Paz pulls as hard as he dares to free Din from the rocks. As soon as he gets a good look Paz loses all the air in his lungs. Din is smeared in an alarming amount of red blood and one side of his helmet is crushed. He’s breathing, but it’s shallow and he’s unresponsive.

“I swear, Din. If you die on me I’ll bring you back and kill you myself.” He snaps, picking up the smaller man and preparing to take off. He should have brought bacta with him. He should have been faster. Din is far too still and far too quiet in Paz’s arms as he makes for the Razor Crest.

“C’mon,  _ cyare.  _ Stay with me.” He says, mostly to himself, as he lays Din on the floor. The foundling is crying somewhere nearby, but Paz has more important matters. He doesn’t even think before he reaches for Din’s helmet.

“No-” Din chokes, grasping weakly at Paz’s arm. “The Creed-”

“ _ Cyar’ika,  _ if I don’t, you’ll die.”

“Fa’ly only. ‘s forbidden.” He slurs, stubborn as a mudhorn, even mortally wounded.

“Then say the  _ riduurok.  _ Make me family because I’m not about to watch you die, you self righteous asshole.”

“Can’t ‘sk you to d’that.”

“Stars, Din! How many times do I have to tell you I love you before you get it through your thick skull. Now please, do not make me watch you die.” Vizlas pride themselves on never begging for anything, never stooping so low, but right now Paz couldn’t care less. He’s begging, pleading with Din.

Din sighs “Paz Vizla. I recognize you as my husband and give you my greatest gift.” He wheezes painfully. “I bear my face and my soul to you.”

As soon as Din stops talking Paz is carefully unlocking the helmet and pulling it off of his beloved’s head. Normally it would be a romantic moment, seeing his  _ riduur’s  _ face for the first time but Din is absolutely soaked in blood and Paz can’t find room to care about the details. He  _ really  _ doesn’t have room when Din starts to seize.

“Sith’s blood.” He cusses, fumbling with the syringe of bacta. It can’t compare to a bacta tank but it’ll have to do. Moments seem to stretch into hours as he struggles, Din gasping for air. He thrusts the needle into Din’s neck and presses the plunger. For a few horrible moments nothing seems to happen, and then he goes deathly still. Paz practically rips off his gloves, searching for a pulse.

It’s there, beating weak but steady beneath his fingertips. Paz knows better than to believe he’s out of the woods yet though. He pulls a can of bacta from the med kit and sets to dousing Din in it, pulling off his armor and undersuit to spray every bruise or cut or scrape. Paz thinks this might be the most scared he’s ever been in his life.

Slowly Din’s heartbeat gets stronger and Paz’s starts to slow. When he’s satisfied he sits back against the crates. He pulls Din against him, back to chest with his head on Paz’s shoulder to keep his airways open. He lets his hand rest on Din’s bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall. It’s only then that he remembers the  _ ad’ika.  _

He’s stopped crying but he stands a little ways away, just staring at the pair with glassy eyes and ears turned down with worry.

“Hey there, little one.” Paz says quietly, holding out a hand. “It’s okay. Your  _ buir  _ is gonna be just fine.”

The kid sniffles and for a moment Paz wonders if he’s going to start crying again. Thankfully he doesn’t, and instead he shuffles forward to Paz’s outstretched hand. Paz scoops him up into his free arm. 

“I know that was pretty scary, huh? It’s okay. I got you,  _ ik’aad.” _

The kid whines and presses his face into Paz’s pauldron, eyes drooping.

“Yeah kid. Get some sleep. I got you two.”

~*~

The first thing Din is aware of is that he aches  _ everywhere.  _ Every limb feels too heavy to lift and something stiff is digging into his spine and the back of his head. It’s strangely comfortable. The second thing he’s aware of is that he isn’t wearing his helmet and his skin feels sticky. He thinks that maybe he should be panicking about that, but there’s a warm arm around his chest and he can’t help but feel safe.

“You’re awake.” Paz says, right next to his ear. Any tension Din might have felt dissipates in an instant. 

“Yeah. It’s awful.” He says, voice grating like gravel in his throat.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a mudhorn.”

“What do you remember?”

Din frowns. Truthfully his memories are a little bit fuzzy. His last clear memory is entering the cave, then a vague sense that something significant happened between him and Paz. It’s probably the same reason his helmet is missing. He hasn’t bothered opening his eyes yet.

“Did I say the  _ riduurok?”  _

“Yes.” Paz hesitates. “Do you regret it?”

Din shakes his head. “No. Never.”

“Good.” He takes a deep breath. “Din Djarin, I recognize you as my husband-”

“Wait, Paz. You don’t have to.” Din opens his eyes to stare into Paz’s visor.

“I want to.” He insists. “I recognize you as my husband and offer you my greatest gift. I bear my face and soul to you.”

Din holds his breath as Paz pulls off his helmet.  _ Stars he’s beautiful.  _ Realistically Paz is an average looking guy but, being the only one allowed to see it makes Din a little star struck. Suddenly he wants nothing more than to press his lips to Paz’s, so he does.

Din’s never kissed anyone before, but now he gets what all the fuss is about. He feels like he’s burning alive from the inside out, in a good way. He feels like he’s drowning but also getting his first breath of fresh air in ages. It’s wonderful.

_ He’s my husband  _ Din thinks, and they have to break apart because he’s smiling so much that their teeth clack together. 

“ _ Buir!”  _ Din startles as his kid yells right next to his ear. He looks quite cozy in the crook of Paz’s arm, drowsily staring up at him.

Din laughs, ruffling the wispy hairs on the top of his wrinkled head. “I hear you kid. It’s okay.” and it really does feel that way.

Paz chuckles, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “C’mon Din’ika. You need a wash and rest, and the floor is no place for either of those.”

“Only if you plan on joining me  _ riduur. _ ”


	2. Self indulgent fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I really just am soft for characters showering together.

_ "Only if you plan on joining me  _ riduur.”

As comfortable as Din is, Paz is right, he should get up. His knees shake as he stands but he manages to stay upright, barely. This is definitely worse than the fight with the mudhorn. His head pounds with every movement and his whole body is black and blue. His face and chest, and, well, everywhere is crusty with dry blood. If he had to guess, he was probably out for a couple of hours. He reeks of iron and bacta spray.

“Shower,  _ cyar’ika.  _ I’ll be there as soon as I put the little one to bed.” Paz says gently. It’s such a far cry from his usual demeanor that Din is more than a little startled. He shuffles to the washroom at a snail’s pace, threatening to topple with each step. The water is warm and he sighs as he steps into the stream. The water runs down the drain stained pink and he hisses through his teeth as it stings his wounds, numerous as they are. Din leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes, focusing only on remaining upright.

~*~

The  _ ad’ika  _ goes to bed with surprisingly little fuss, but Paz isn’t going to question his luck. As soon as the kid settles down Paz makes for the shower. He leaves his armor in a neat pile outside the door, and when he enters the room is already filled with steam.

“Still alive,  _ cyar’ika? _ ” He calls out.

Din only grunts in acknowledgement. Paz opens the curtain and laughs in surprise. Din is slumped against the wall, eyes closed, and still wearing is pants and boots. He looks like a drowned loth cat.

“Oh stars.” He laughs. “You sure you’re alright Din’ika? Cause I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to undress before you shower.”

“I meant to do that.” Din says.

“Sure you did.” Paz replies, stepping into the shower stall. It’s a little cramped but he doesn’t mind. “Come here.”

It takes a good while to peel Din out of his undersuit now that it’s soaked through, but it’s for the best as a veritable torrent of dirt and filth is pulled down the drain. Din shows no interest in washing himself up, choosing to stand motionless under the spray instead.

Paz pauses a moment just to look, now that Din’s face isn’t crusted in blood and dust. He’s handsome, incredibly so with his sharp nose and outgrown dark hair. He’s mottled with bruises from his face to his toes, but underneath all that his small frame is filled out with wiry muscles. Paz must stare for a little too long because Din opens an eye to glance up at him.

“Got something to say,  _ cyare? _ ” he asks.

“A man can’t admire his husband, Din’ika?” 

“Don’t call me that.” He replies, without any real heat, and closes his eyes.

“Alright, alright. Come here. I’ll wash your hair.” Paz chuckles, outstretched hands filled with sweet smelling soap.

Din shuffles the few steps forward for Paz to reach, bowing his head forward. His hair is thick and soft underneath Paz’s hands and he takes care around the barely scabbed over wounds on his scalp. Din, for all his usually threatening demeanor is practically putty under the attention, leaning into Paz’s touch and occasionally sighing in contentment. He follows willingly when Paz guides his head beneath the spray of the showerhead, using his thumbs to rub away the last of the blood. 

“Do you plan on helping or do I have to do everything myself?” Paz jokes when he lets go and Din whines.

“Let me get back to you tomorrow.” He says, leaning forward to rest his head on Paz’s breast bone. Over their years together Din had established himself as a very tactile person, constantly sharing personal space and sprawling in his sleep. Paz is glad to see that nothing has changed in that regard. He smiles to himself and gathers more soap in his palms, dedicating himself to washing away the last of the blood and grime on Din’s skin. It’s quiet, the only sounds being Din’s occasional hiss of pain and Paz’s mumbled apology. Din’s giving his best impression of a ragdoll and Paz isn’t entirely sure he’s awake anymore. But he allows himself to be maneuvered and rinsed of suds.

Paz shuts off the water and Din finally reopens his eyes. He blinks slowly a couple of times before he takes the towel from Paz’s hand. Despite his obvious pain and fatigue, DIn adamantly refuses any assistance in dressing and winds up lying on his back on the bunk in only his boxers. He doesn’t appreciate Paz’s chuckled “I told you so”

“Better?” Paz asks once they’re both lying down, side by side. 

“Don’t patronize me, Vizla.” He grumbles.

“Okay,  _ cyar’ika. _ ” he laughs. “ _ Nuhoy.  _ I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nuhoy - sleep

**Author's Note:**

> ad'ika - kid  
> ik'aad - infant  
> cyare - beloved  
> cyar'ika - darling  
> riduur - spouse  
> riduurok - marriage ceremony  
> buir - parent
> 
> also, according to Wookiepedia "Sith's Blood" is mandalorian slang meaning, essentially "shit"
> 
> Kudos and comments make my world go round.


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